It
could not be less than $50,000, perhaps more. Of course my uncle had
given a harbor to a grudge against me and mine, but such things are
always forgotten on the death bed. It occurred to me that I never had
known before what a fine world it was, and I regretted having spoken
ill of it. I glanced across the way. The sky had cleared, and the
last beams of the sun flamed in the windows of the tall buildings.
Fortune, having buffeted me, was now going to make me one of her
favorite children. I had reached the end of the long lane.
As I left the restaurant I decided to acquaint Phyllis with my good
luck and also my desire that she should share of it. I turned into a
florist's and had a dozen roses sent up to her. They were American
Beauties. I could afford it now.
I found Phyllis thrumming on the piano. She was singing in a low voice
the aria from "Lucia." I stood on the threshold of the drawing-room
and waited till she had done. I believed her to be unaware of my
presence. She was what we poets call a "dream of loveliness," a
tangible dream. Her neck and shoulders were like satin, and the head
above them reminded me of Sappho's which we see in marble.
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